


a thing of cream and stars

by Mythologiae



Category: Exos Heroes (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Dom/sub Undertones, However briefly it may be, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rachel is there to make him forget about them, Ramge has a lot of self-esteem issues, Siri is it gay to blow your best friend when you're both having a rough day?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25892815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythologiae/pseuds/Mythologiae
Summary: Ramge is needy, and Rachel, for all his temper, is far too indulgent.
Relationships: Rachel (Exos Heroes)/Ramge (Exos Heroes)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	a thing of cream and stars

* * *

  
The knock comes at his door and he can't imagine who'd be stupid enough to disturb him so late. Even if he's still awake, trying to figure out how to team up the rest of the King's Guard, his temperament at dinner that evening was hardly receptive. Even the others, impetuous as they were, hadn't been brave enough to bother the Prince when he'd had such a thunderous look on his face. Instead, they'd turned their attention to quiet, meek Ramge, and that had lit a different sort of fire in him, prompting him to get up and almost knock his chair over as he left. Whatever this is, he thinks as he remembers it, has to be important. Which is why when he opens the door and is met with the top of a mop of dark hair, eyes nervously downcast, he's more than a little surprised. He might've thought his ire would put the other off.  
  
"...Ramge?"  
  
At the sound of his name, quiet as it is, the other Prince flinches and flicks his eyes up to Rachel's as if to make sure he's being addressed. His hands fidget, and the blond realizes he has a cup of tea in each hand, steaming hot. It must be difficult to manage, especially with Sia winding her way around his shoulders, but the second Rachel takes a silent step back to invite him in, she drops from her perch and meanders back in the direction of Ramge's room. Rachel watches her go, perplexed, but takes the stunned brunet by the elbow and guides him in, closing the door behind them. He takes both cups gingerly, mindful of the tremble in Ramge's fingers, and sets them on his desk before dropping into his chair. Draping one arm over the back and the opposite elbow on the desk, he cocks his head, roving over Ramge's shifting figure curiously.  
  
They remain at a silent impasse until Rachel sighs, reaches for a cup, and lifts it to his mouth to take a careful sip. Ramge watches, eyes half-lidded, until he's finished.  
  
The porcelain hits the wood with a delicate tap, barely a sound at all, but that isn't what matters. What matters is Rachel's hand, casually set against his thigh, and the way his eyes close as he tilts his head back. Then, suddenly, a cheek against the side of his palm, fingers working at his belts, and he almost shakes his head and sighs but rotates his wrist to cup Ramge's cheek instead. A whimper follows, soft and breathless, and he glides his thumb gently over the apple of a high, gaunt cheekbone as Ramge's mouth slides over him with a sigh.  
  
Everything about him is deliberate, careful; he's almost fragile even as he winds an arm around Rachel's hips and fills his mouth with him. His breaths are soft and hitched, coming faster as Rachel hardens along his tongue, heavy and thick, filling his mouth until the breaths he takes when he pulls back sound wet and sticky. He slides his thumb down Ramge's cheek, down the corner of his mouth, and gives a low, deliberate laugh. Rolling his head a bit, his eyes open slowly, watching as his thumb presses gently against Ramge's lower lip, watching as that soft, downturned pout opens obediently.   
  
"Drooling already? You didn't have to wait so long. Wouldn't want anyone to think I’m not giving you what you need."  
  
The color on Ramge's pale cheeks is as soft as the way he whines when Rachel tugs his hips away, fleeting but telling. He moves his hand, winding his fingers through the hair behind his ear, and settles himself more comfortably, legs splayed wide.  
  
"Don't worry," he murmurs, reassuring, hooking an ankle around Ramge's side, "I'm not going anywhere. Now, c'mere…"  
  
Ramge moves eagerly, the gentle guidance of Rachel's hand barely even necessary. He murmurs a throaty _'good boy'_ at that which makes Ramge's breath hitch and his eyes close as he slides his mouth down Rachel's cock, swift and eager. Rachel's breath leaves him in a punched-out gust, both impressed and concerned in equal measure, and rubs his thumb in slow circles just above Ramge's ear. His eyes flutter half-open, bright and flamelike in the semi-dark, rolling slowly up Rachel's lax form until they land on his face. Red meets blue, and Rachel gives a crooked, smug little half-grin that makes the other prince flush hotly and slam his eyes shut immediately. Though he knows it's just him being overwhelmed, Rachel can't help but tease, rubbing the pads of his fingers idly against the other's scalp and giving a sudden, slow rock against his mouth. Despite being surprised, Ramge doesn't so much as sputter, a low, keening noise working its way past Rachel's cock. He likes being used, when he gets like this, and though Rachel isn't exactly against obliging, he'd much rather work Ramge differently.  
  
He pulls back slowly, still slumped in his chair, hips retreating until it's just the tip of his length in that sweet, eager mouth, and tightens his fingers in that mess of dark hair.  
  
Panting softly, lips and tongue work around him, trying to entice him deeper once again. But Rachel's grip on his head doesn't loosen, and his hips don't move forward, and Ramge's need grows into desperation, the overwhelming _want_ to resume working, resume earning praise making him arch his neck in an attempt to get closer. Rachel waits until those eyes slide open again, gazing up at him pitifully, before loosening his grip on Ramge's hair. Instantly, his mouth is all over him once again, licking his way up to the tip and then moaning hotly as he takes the entirety of it into his mouth in another swift, sudden motion. Encouraging him with his hand on the back of his head, Rachel doesn't even have to move. Instead he slumps even further, worrying his lip between his teeth as Ramge bobs up and down on his cock like a man starved. He's so enraptured watching him work- the hollowing of his cheeks, the flick of his tongue along the underside, the flutter of his lashes as he swallows hard and _coos_ \- that his orgasm almost catches him off guard. He tugs at the back of Ramge's high collar, gently at first, then more insistent, but the other refuses to move away. Instead he curls his arm behind Rachel's hips a little tighter and shoves himself all the way down, nosing at the downy, pale hair at the base of his cock, and swallows thickly, long lashes not hiding the needy glint in his eyes as he looks up at him.  
  
Rachel gasps, low and breathless, and comes with a tightening of his fingers in Ramge's hair and an arch of his back.  
  
When he manages to open his eyes again, it's to Ramge delicately wiping a few thick, pearly stripes from his chin, the corners of his lips, and lapping idly at them. The sight of his tongue swiping along the scarlet leather of his gloves so daintily does something to Rachel's self-control, making him move before he can think. The chair scrapes back with a clatter as he falls to his knees in front of Ramge, pressing their mouths together in an insistent kiss. The taste of himself is salty and somewhat bitter against Ramge's tongue, tinged faintly with the remnants of his tea.  
  
"Get undressed," he says as he pulls away, voice barely a rasp as he tugs up one of Ramge's hands, nosing along the pulse in his wrist before pressing a kiss there. "You're not getting away with disobeying."  
  
Ramge looks guilty, but not repentant, and Rachel laughs as he pulls back to get his clothes off as well.  
  
"Honestly," he mutters, gentle and fond, enamored in a way that he's certain is more than obvious, if the stricken way Ramge stares is any indication, "how did I let you get so spoiled?"  
  
He's given no answer, but he doesn't really need one; after all, it isn't like he's going to stop any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> there's like two whole people in this fandom but fuck it


End file.
